Nothing But Perfection
by ElizaXSpears
Summary: He owned a small shop with porcelain dolls he always used to describe perfection. Alternate Universe! Set in modern day!
1. His Shop and Dolls

_**His Shop and Dolls**_

The shop was set up in the center of town, blending in perfectly with the rest of the shops around it though it sold rare items that the own crafted himself. The man would spend days down in his crafting station, only coming up when hearing the ring of the doors bell signally he had a customer. He had sold many of his dolls though some would say his shop was lacking variety. The dolls all seemed to resemble one another and the man was glad they did. See, his dolls were based off a young man he had encountered in a bar a few months ago. For a young male, beautiful was the only word that crossed his mind. He'd never been interested in anyone or found anyone that warranted the word, but this young man could have been a doll himself. "This one's my favorite." The man said as he pulled one of the dolls from the shelf to show the customer. The porcelain of the doll was pale; the hair was styled to have a few strands of bangs hang in the dolls glossy grey eyes. It wore an old fashioned suit with a strange skull bolo tie to bring everything together.

"Oh, he's lovely." The woman said. "Is he for sale?"

The man frowned, starting at the doll that started his obsession with this particular feminine male face. "No." he replied. "He's special to me." He placed the doll back in its spot, high upon a shelf before placing his hand on the woman's back to lead her to another display case. "Do any of these catch your eye?"

These dolls in this case had more manly features then his new dolls and perhaps the reason they didn't sell as much as they used too. "He's alright." She said as she tapped a long purple nail to her lips. "See, I'm looking for something for my daughter for her eighth birthday and she's always enjoyed these types of dolls."

"A birthday gift? Well, you should have said so to begin with." He coaxed over to the newer dolls, lifting one with the feminine face expect dressed in more modern formal attire. "I think this one would sit nicely in a young girl's room."

The mother held the doll in her hands, eyes narrowing as she examined every bit of it before she gave a satisfied nod and smile. "He's wonderful, I'll take him."

The man led the woman to the till and she paid the $85.99 for him. Most of the dolls in the shop were over the hundred mark but since that doll wasn't one of his favorites he lowered the price to get rid of it and now that it was gone, he could place a much better doll in its empty spot. "Thank you…Mr. Slingby." she said as she read the small nameplate on the corner of the counter.

"You're very welcome." He held the door open for her as she carried the box he had placed the doll in.

When he was alone again, he turned to the display of other dolls, frowning at them. "I'm sure you're attractive to someone." He said placing his hand on the glass. "I'd hate to have to throw you into the fire." With that said, he realized he had to feed his guest.

His living space was on the second level of the shop and he made a quick and easy dinner consisting of toast and water which he carried down on a tray to his guest in the basement. "Are you awake? I've brought dinner." He smiled as he made his way down the stairs.

In the dark corner of the poorly lit room, a figure moved, the clinking, metallic sound of chains echoing in the small room. "…please…" he heard the whimper but ignored it as he set the tray before the young man. "I…I want to…go home."

Mr. Slingby lifted his hand to run it through brown hair that seemed to lose its silkiness every day. "You are home. My home, our home." He smiled. "Don't frown love. Those eyes of yours don't suit frowns. Where's that smile I saw the night I met you?" The young man tried to pull from the grasp but the hand tightened in his hair. "Answer me."

"You stole it!" came the young man's unexpected shout. "Now let me go!"

A quiet growl came from the man's throat as he smacked a pale cheek, satisfied with the sound of a neck cracking at the force the slap had. "Should I let you starve for talking back to me?" silence. "I thought not." He stood, moving toward the stairs. "I'll be back to study you again tonight. By then I expect you to have eaten your dinner." He left and all that echoed in the room were quiet sobs.


	2. Chapter 1

**Chapter One**

Another night, another stale dinner, another night begging to anyone who would listen to help save him from his entrapment. The metal handcuffs were begging to rub his bare wrists raw and he was sore from laying on the cold, cement floor and always seeing spiders sprint across the floor made him shiver. They weren't black windows but it still wasn't nice to wake up with one resting on your chest. "Help!" he called every time he heard that door's bell ring but no one ever seemed to hear him even when he screamed his voice raw. "Please…" he scowled at himself, wiping his eyes with the heel of his hand. "You can't cry Alan. You have to be strong." He said to himself. "Men like him feed off weakness, you know that." He yanked at his chains, wincing when they dug into his skin. "Damn."

"Not trying to run are you?"

Alan looked up, meeting his captors blue eyes. "No." he pushed back from the hand that tried to touch him. "Why do you have me here?"

His captor sighed, folding his arms over his chest. "It's the same answer you get every time you ask. You wouldn't understand."

Alan sighed, shifting to sit on his knees. "No one understands, right? You're just a lone psychopath in this normal world?"

Laughing, his captor shook his head. "Far from it. I have friends who understand me perfectly. I said _you_ wouldn't understand and you don't."

Alan bit the corner of his bottom lip as he looked away, thinking of some way to convince this man to let him go even though he tried so many times without luck. "Can you-?"

"Eric! I'm here for out little lunch date!"

Eric's head whipped to the stairs, to the crack of light slipping through the door he forgot to fully close and Alan saw it as well but Eric slapped his hand over the youth's mouth to keep him from calling out. "I'll be up in a minute!" he replied, slipping out a cloth from his pocket using it as gag before Alan could speak. "Now, now, I'll be back before dinner." He stroked back Alan's bangs before jogging up the stairs, making sure the door was closed and locked.

"Ah, there you are!"

Eric turned around to greet an old red head friend of his from their days of high school. "I lost track of time."

"I'm not surprised." The woman linked arms with him, smiling as she pulled out her phone. "I booked us reservations at the Red Silk Café."

"Fancy."

"Isn't it? Now come! Let's go!"

Alan could hear the door open and close, frowning around his gag. Luckily it was just stuffed into his mouth rather then tied so he with a couple tries he was able to spit it out. "Asshole." Shifting around in his chains again, he looked for something to pick the lock with but of course Eric wouldn't leave anything like that lying around.

So focused on glaring at his chains, he didn't notice a spider crawl up his leg until it was in his line of sight. A shout of shock passed his lips as he jolted back, smacking into the brick wall, groaning at the throbbing in his head. "Stupid spider." He muttered. He turned the round the best he could to make sure there wasn't any blood on the wall when his eyes flew wide. There was a small crack in the mortar between the bricks and if he looked closely, he could see another room on the other side. Perhaps this was freedom! Then again, what would Eric do if he came back and Alan had taken down half his wall? He was still chained and wouldn't be able to run anywhere. "Hello?!" he called into the crack, maybe, hoping, someone could hear him. "C-Can anyone hear me?" Silence. "Please!" when he expected silence again, he saw something shift just a little out of his vision. "H-Hey! Hey, can you hear me?!" whatever or whoever that was shifted again. "Please, talk to me. I'm not, I _can't_ hurt you."

"Please…don't…yell."

Alan's eyes flew wide, heart pounding at the sound of another voice. "Yeah, okay, sorry." He shifted to his knees again, pressing against the bricks to try and get a better look through the hole at who answered him. "Can you talk to me?"

"…I…I speak…to no one…who lives with…him."

"I don't live with him. I'm guessing I'm just like you, taken here against my will." Hearing the voice again, though whispery and weak, Alan could tell it was a man's voice. "I'm handcuffed in his basement."

"…taken?"

"Yes. Kidnapped." He squinted even more. "Can I see you?"

"No."

"Then…who are you?"

"…no one…important to society anymore."

"You have to have a name."

"No."

Frowning, Alan turned from the hole to sit against the wall. "I'm Alan Humphries if that'll change anything."

"One."

Alan blinked. "Huh? What?"

"One. He…he called me one…the first…you are the second."

"Frist one he kidnapped?"

"No, first…first to…I cannot say…"

"Well…how long have you been here?"

"…years…"

"Years!?" Alan laid his head against the wall, blinking rapidly at the answer. "Wow." He looked down at his handcuffs. "Is there anything in there that'll help me unlock these handcuffs?"

"I…don't know."

"You don't know? Really? You can't see any paperclips or anything?"

"No…"

"Great." He frowned. "So, he used you to make dolls too?"

"Yes…"

"I don't get why he doesn't just take a picture then work from that."

"…flesh is better…then a photograph."

"That's such bull." He stretched out his fingers. "But hey, when I get out of here like I'm determined to do, I'll make sure you're freed too, alright?" he received silence again. "Uh, hey? Hello?" he turned around to peer through the small hole again and nothing moved. "Please tell me you're real and I'm not just talking to myself." Silence again. "…maybe being trapped in this basement for months on end has affected my sanity more then I thought." He said sitting back down against the wall.

* * *

"And I have to thank you again for the money for the surgery." Grell said after a sip from his tea. "Where you got the money from, I have no idea."

Eric chuckled as he wiped his mouth with the provided napkin. "My shops been doing well lately." He said. "My dolls are selling better than I thought they would."

"Well, you have charming ideas for them! I want for myself." She set down his empty teacup. "In fact, to allow me to repay you for the money, let me buy one of your highest priced dolls."

"You don't need to do that."

"Oh, but I want to!" she stood. "Let's go. Meet me outside and I'll pay for the bill."

"How about I pay the bill as you plan to buy one of my dolls."

"You're so sweet." She kissed his cheek then skipped outside to wait.

Eric paid the bill then walked with Grell back to his shop which wasn't' far from the café which for him was a good thing. He could easily rush home he felt something was wrong with his guest. "Alright. Stores yours." He said as he flipped the closed sigh to open.

Grell set her hands on her hips to look around the shop, waiting for her eyes to catch on something while Eric leant against his counter, watching her decided when his eyes lit up as she went over to the display case with that, what he considered, uglier dolls in his collection. "He's handsome." She said tapping the glass over the very last doll he'd created of this design. The porcelain was a deathly white, the hair jet black with every strand pushed out of his emerald eyes that, compared to the rest of the dolls in his shop, looked a little less glossy his look all tied together with the black funeral suit he wore.

Eric stepped over to her, using his keys to unlock the case, allowing her to pull out the doll. "You like him?" he asked a tad surprised. No one had looked at these dolls for longer than a few seconds.

"Mm hm." She ran manicured nails through the dolls hair. "He'll go perfect with the bride doll you gave me a few years back, remember?"

Eric smiled down at the doll, forgetting the gift he had given one of his dearest friends. "Yes, you're right. He would look wonderful beside her." He led Grell over to the counter, ringing up the doll which came up with one of his more expensive prices of $245.93. "Here dear." She said as she fished out the cash from her purse having to place her doll on the counter.

"Thank you." He opened his cash register but kept taking a few glances at the doll, frowning just the slightest. "I hope you give him a good home."

"Oh, you know I take good care of all my things." She took her doll. "Alright sweetie. I'll call you later so we can have another lunch date."

"Alright." He waved slightly to her as she left then let out heavy sigh, leaning his arms on the counter. _'Yes, he'll go well with the bride.'_ He thought before deciding to check up on Alan. He entered the basement, surprised to find his guest's ear pressed against the brick wall. "What are you doing?"

Alan jumped, quickly spinning around to face him. "I…I just thought I heard something crawling in the wall."

Eric cocked an eyebrow, walking toward Alan. "Such as?"

"A rat or something."

"A rat?"

"Something." He swallowed.

Eric rolled his eyes as he knelt to Alan's height. "I'm sure you're just hearing things." He took both Alan's cheeks in his hands, tilting his head left and right. "I have an idea for another doll."

"What is it?"

"A…wedding collection." He allowed his finger to trail from Alan's cheek, over the shape of his lips then down his chin. "Mm, yes. A wedding collection with you as the ring bearer. You're far too young to be the groom."

"W-Who will you make the groom or the bride?"

"I will find someone to fit the bride. The groom is an easy find though." He stood, dusting off his knees. "Now, I'll be back with dinner."

"…can it be something…more than bread and…water?" Alan whimpered, shrinking under the pricing gaze Eric had. "P-Please? I've been surviving off of that for months. Just…something with more substance just this once would be…nice."

Eric continued to stare a moment long, Alan swore he was about to catch fire when from the bellows of his chest came a laugh. "You're both brave and stupid for asking your host for something." He turned to make his way upstairs. "But I suppose I can admire that." He said over his shoulder. "For tonight, you'll receive something more filling then bread." When the door closed, Alan let out his breath, asking just the slightest. He was afraid he was going to get hit again but thankfully he was left mostly unharmed. He was a little worried about his red and raw skin from the metal cuffs but perhaps asking him to remove them would be too much too soon.

Eric returned an hour later with a bowl of steaming chicken soup and Earl Grey tea. "Is this more to your liking?"

Alan took the spoon, blowing on the hot liquid before slipping it into his mouth. "Yes, thank you."

"Mm."

Alan watched him leave as he ate his soup, enjoying the comfort and familiarity of home that came with it of course that only made him miss his family even more. He knew he had already missed his first week of University ages ago and he was curious if anyone was even looking for him. If his mother was worried, if his father took notice, if his best friend just replaced him.

Shaking away those thoughts, he continued to enjoy his dinner until the soup was eaten and the tea was drunk. Now all he could do was lay down, pillow his head on his arm, close his eyes and dream of rescue.


End file.
